


Gifting Lotus Flowers

by malfunctioningEgoist



Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Background Relationships, Broody Fenris (Dragon Age), Canon Rewrite, Canon-Typical Behavior, Canon-Typical Violence, Canonical Character Death, Character Death, Developing Relationship, Dragon Age II - Act 1, Dragon Age II - Act 2, Dragon Age II - Act 3, During Canon, Elf warden - Freeform, Elf/Human Relationship(s), Eventual Happy Ending, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Loss of Virginity, Open to Interpretation, Past Abuse, Post-Dragon Age II, Pre-Dragon Age II, Pregnancy, Rouge Hawke, Sexual Content, Sexual Tension, Slavery, Slow Build, Unplanned Pregnancy, Unrequited Crush, anti-mage play through, attempt at DA lore accuracy, attempt at fantasy accuracy, attempt at medieval era accuracy, friend romance, inconsistent updates, mild dramatization
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-01
Updated: 2020-01-01
Packaged: 2021-02-27 08:33:45
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,661
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22064080
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malfunctioningEgoist/pseuds/malfunctioningEgoist
Summary: Eleanor Hawke, despite her aptitude for sword play, was often considered by the townsfolk as the prime example of what a proper lady should be. This, of course, could be attributed to her finesse.From her educated opinion, It should only be right that a woman know their way around the blade just like any other man, especially if she were as delicate as they say. While others may not agree, it was by this idea that she chose her hobbies, and honed those skills, usually away from prying eyes, but if someone were to raise suspicions she could simply say she was rehearsing dinner etiquette for when she married into the noble lords manor.Eleanor Hawke, despite her desire of weddings and babies with her family surrounding her in joyous celebrations, or the facade of her that craves such things, was now being faced with the terrifying realization that everything she knew of home and life in Lothering was being ripped away from her.
Relationships: Fenris/Female Hawke
Comments: 2
Kudos: 2





	Gifting Lotus Flowers

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Prologue/Pre - Dragon Age 2 /Beginning of Dragon Age Origins
> 
> A general introduction to their lives before the blight.
> 
> Eleanor Hawke meets the Warden, unknowing of who she is, and receives training from her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let me know if there are errors in anything I did not catch so that I can fix them, Feedback is appreciated. 
> 
> I also just want to inform you that I plan to have 1 pre- DR 2 chapters, and the 2rd chapter will be the start of the game. This is not set in stone, just how its being planned out currently. I predict that Fenris will finally appear and all the awkward sexual tension will start in either chapter 3-5
> 
> Once again, don't quote me on this, but that is the general idea. 
> 
> I also want to comment that I generally do not have a reputation for frequent updates. If updates stall, don't worry that I am dropping the project. I assure you, I will make a note of it if I plan to. 
> 
> Things to expect; attempting to stray away from the usual fenris/hawke fics I have read, Lack of any appreciation for Isabella (AKA don't expect her to stay or to receive much attention from me), during the events of DA2 my Warden is banging Zevran in her tent every single night, I have a thing for elves. It is safe to say that my thing for elves leaks into everything, including the champion and so having her be bffsies with the warden for a few days lets me elfenize her, LASTY AND IMPORTANTLY I know that a lot of you see Fenris as a POC, and I completely understand why, however, from my understanding, there are no "POC" among elves, just tanner skin depending on the amount of sunlight given to them. Based on canon establishments of elves, Fenris sister being a pale af red head, and how Fenris skin seems to go from pale white to really dark depending on the lighting, I will not depict Fenris as a coffee skinned elf, HOWEVER, he will be depicted as a lighter tone of dark skin. Like how I do 1/3 creamer in my cup of coffee and it turns into this nice shade of charmeuse (apparently that is a color, yes). Its a dark color, but is still light in complexion, which I think is a good medium. 
> 
> If you have an issue with these things please file them in the comments and I will proceed to not respond ever because you have plenty of fanfics that fit your expectations. Like a lot of them. 
> 
> That is to say, if you comment on the above things, and your complaints are aggressive in nature, then I will ignore you, but if you are respectful then I will gladly discuss the matters with you and perhaps you can change my mind. I do love a good debate. 
> 
> If this note has not detoured you from reading further, do enjoy.

The depreciating state of Lothering as refugees camped within it's walls continued to climb. It only made sense that merchants would come and take advantage of the situation in some way or another. Over charging to forging documents, there was a lot one could do to a person down on their luck. 

The only problem with that though is that once a man hits the bottom, he is no longer afraid. A broken man is capable of powerful vengence. 

Eleanor, however, was aware of these things. One could consider her fairly wise, her sharp merlot eyes catching things others could not. She was often able to weasle herself out of most problems, whether by her own skill or the neighbors ignorance couldn't be certain. 

She chose to train them with a blade, using their brokenness as an excuse to openly dance. And her dancing was a sight to behold. She was not perfect, as no self taught anything can make any true progress without the counciling of the experienced, as her movements flowed like a stream being struck by drops of rain. 

Eleanor Hawke, despite her aptitude for sword play, was often considered by the townsfolk as the prime example of what a proper lady should be. This, of course, could be attributed to her finesse.

From her educated opinion, It should only be right that a woman know their way around the blade just like any other man, especially if she were as delicate as they say. While others may not agree, it was by this idea that she chose her hobbies, and honed those skills, usually away from prying eyes, but if someone were to raise suspicions she could simply say she was rehearsing dinner etiquette for when she married into the noble lords manor.

Before the blight, before the refugees, she and her siblings, Bethany and Carver, ran Lothering. Not in an actual running sense, but with the girls having all the boys wrapped around their fingers, Eleanor having the townsfolk bamboozled into her proper lady routine, and Bethy and Carver fighting each other and the boys. 

Together they sat that day, eating fruit plucked at random from a tree. Bethany was assisting Eleanor with her braid, as she herself was never really good with it. Her sister ran her soft fingers through her thick white hair, positioned behind her for a better view. Often they did this. It wasn't that Eleanor didn't want to do it herself, but the Hawke sisters found a peaceful bond between the act, and so it carried on. 

She bit into her fruit with a crunch only to ask with a full mouth "Is it just me, or are most of the boys here awfully dumb?" 

Carver glared, taking insult to that, "I am not dumb" he insisted, mumbling out the last part just low enough to still be heard. "at least I don't talk with food in my mouth.."

She snorted. "Etiquette is the same as intellect now? Well then brother, if you keep it up you might be mistaken for an escaped slave and hauled away to Tevinter." 

He threw dirt in her direction and she jerked away, or attempted to, in a fit of giggling, but her sister yanked on her long hair. "You two are both being rude. Save the horseplay for after we've finished eating and I've finished braiding, or I'll catch both of your hair on fire." 

"I apologize, I shall remain still untill you've finished" 

"I won't apologize for throwing dirt at that thing I call a sister. How did you become the favorite of the townsfolk exactly?" 

She smiled and said, "because I wanted to." 

"That's it? Your big secret?" 

"And I'm very good at hiding my emotions." And with that her face went blank. "Keeping your emotions detached from certain conversations allows for a clear head when making decisions. That isn't it's only use though, as diplomatic responses can please almost anyone." 

"I don't get it." Carver said dumbfounded.

"You can't understand everything. " 

When Carver looked pleased by this, the two girls broke into a fit of laughter and Carver stared confused. He felt like he was being bullied, he tried to find where Eleanor said anything insulting. He racked his brain until the dots were connected, "hey wait a minute!-" 

It was then they were called home and news of the blight came, the king's death, and then the refugees made camp in their home. 

The world she knew, was surrounded by the overwhelming stench of fear. Nobody knew what would happen to them or if they would have to evacuate. And so, biding her time, she trained the refugees and she helped her neighbors. 

Soon after the refugees came, an Elf appeared. From the markings on her face and the way she carried herself around the humans, she was clearly dalish. Eleanor watched her gracefully move through the refugee tents, only to abruptly stop and focus her attention on a crowd.

Eleanor looked too, seeing a merchant being surrounded by patrons. As she studied the scene, she realized they weren't patrons but rather, they were angrily yelling and shouting at him. The Elf seemed to have noticed this too, and she approached him. They spoke shortly, he laughed at something she said, which seemed to displease her greatly, and then he packed up and left. This encounter left the elf in a state of disappointed annoyance. 

"What did you say to him?" She found herself asking from across the way. Emberassed, she began to make herself known and move toward the Elf. 

The Elf heard her however, and turned around, looking her over. She studied Eleanor with sharp silver eyes before finally responding. "I told the Shem to lower prices. He did not like that. Why do you ask?" 

Upon further inspection she could see that the elf was in fact dalish. She wore dalish gear, her body was toned from years of hunting experience, and she was distrustful of her surroundings. She felt out of her element here in Lothering. She, much like Eleanor, had white hair, which was pulled back into a braided bun with choppy bangs hanging in the front. Her body and face was slim, she was a beautiful woman who carried an air to be respected. The elf had two blades and a bow stationed to her back, meaning she too duel wielded, but in more ways than one. Eleanor quite liked this elf. 

"I guess persuasion is not a talent of yours?" Eleanor asked. 

"No, I can pick locks and set a painful trap for your falon, but I am not very charismatic,,, don't tell anyone else I said that." 

She giggled, "Yes, It would be rather bad if they knew an elf was capable of looting their goods and making a pitfall in their bedrooms." she leaned in to whisper, "In fact, your traps may even prove useful in confirming the validity certain gossip revolving around an affair." 

Eleanor had taken a gamble with her words. Responding diplomatically would have been fine, but humor often can be used to replicate a simple "I like you" or "I trust you" if properly timed. The elf stared for a moment, making her nervous, before she leaned back and gave a hearty laugh. "Do not worry, I wont take from those who need it more than I." 

"and what do you consider worthy of being taken?" 

"Pardon?" 

"You said you won't take from those who need it more than you, which means you do steal, and there is also the loophole of what you consider should be left behind and what should not." 

The elf gave her a look, "Whats your name?" 

"Ah, forgive me, I never did properly introduce myself. I am Eleanor Hawke, and you are?" 

"Axilia" She did not say anything else on the matter of introductions rather, she held her chin in a thoughtful gesture, eyes narrowed toward Hawke, "You are observant, in both eyes and ears, I like this about you. I will not be here in Lothering long, however,, I can teach you some things If you are willing?" 

"I already know how to wield a blade if that's what you mean." she said defensively. 

"Really now? do show me." she waved her hand dismissively, "after all, to refuse my help must mean you are a master of the art, and I should rather be learning from you than you from me." 

"I-" Eleanor paused, unsure of how to respond, "I hadn't meant it like that. Besides, isn't it rather narcissistic to assume I would need your help? That by turning you down is insulting?"

The elf, Axilia, shook her head disapprovingly, "We can all learn a thing or two from another person. You took my offer as an insult, and my insult as boasting. You are clearly self conscious about what you do know and do not." her eyes glanced behind her and she waved an arm up. "We are in the middle of a blight, and we all need to be prepared. Please think over my offer. I am sure we could both be beneficial to one another during our time together. Please meet me tonight outside of town at my camp and be sure to bring your equipment if you do. I will take your arrival as an acceptance of my offer." with that being her final words with Eleanor, she strode away, meeting with a human man, a travel companion Hawke assumed, and they continued their rounds, speaking to the townsfolk and refugees. 

Eleanor felt herself overwhelmed with joy. She felt like a Lilac.

That night she made her way to the camp that Axilia told her of, rusting blades sheathed and at her side, her timid footsteps sounding louder with the nervous energy filling into her. She closed her eyes and breathed trying to steady her nerves.

The thud of an arrow ripped her from this exercise. Her eyes shot open, and inches from her face was an elf-flight arrow imbibed deep into the bark of the tree. Her mind screamed, and her instincts of fight or flight began to argue. She was lucky the arrow missed, but she would not be so lucky next time. The thought itself awoke something in her. Her body shook and felt like led, but she willed herself to move, which as luck would have it, she moved at the perfect time. The culprit who shot the arrow had pounced from their hiding spot, blades in hand, but their attack missed as Eleanor dodged. Her fingers shook, reaching for her blades, but the next swipe shocked her as she jumped back, dropping the blade. The figure quickly kicked the item aside outside of either of their reaches, and came forward once more. Eleanor attempted to dodge once more, however her luck ran out as she tripped over a root and fell back. Her eyes held tightly shut as she waited for her mistakes punishment, but nothing came of it.

She slowly opened her eyes to see that her attacker was the elf, looking down on her with a knowing look. "Training is nothing like reality. You often forget everything you have learned about fighting when faced with real danger. On your feet."

Eleanor, in shock that the elf not only attacked her but shot an arrow at her took a moment to process her words before obeying. gathering herself off the ground, only to be tripped by a sweeping motion from the elves foot to knock her back down again. She hissed in pain as her head made contact with the earth. 

She glared at the elf, "You wanted me to get up." 

"Yes, I do. Why are you still on the ground?" 

The fact that the elf was pretending like she didn't do anything irritated her. She attempted to get up, and was once again knocked back down. The process repeated a few more times before Eleanor could no longer hold in her emotions. 

"Stop doing that!" she shouted in anger. 

"Stop doing what?" the elf asked, a smirk on her lips. 

"You keep knocking me down and asking me to get up. I can't do anything like this." She huffed in annoyance. 

"You may stand now, I will not do so again." as she spoke, she took a step away from her, assuring the other she was being honest. 

At last, Eleanor found herself standing up, brushing the dirt of her clothes, she glared at the elf. "Would you mind telling me the point of this exercise."

"Never let your guard down, but most importantly, do not fall, and if you do, be on your feet before the enemy is too close, or you may never be on them again." 

And this was how their relationship carried on for a week. During the day, Axilia focused on aiding the people of Lothering while Eleanor completed her chores and conversed. In the evening, on her way to the camp, they had a mock battle, and within the camp they trained. It was during this time together that the elf began to often call her "Vhenallin", though Eleanor wasn't sure what it meant. The elf gifted her with new blades to replace her old, and proper equipment. When asked, the elf told her they were her first, but that she had no use for them anymore. They carried memories, but those memories were kept just as well in her head, and that she needed them more, what with her "rusting tableware" as the elf called them. Often, when they took breaks, Eleanor asked about her life with the dalish, she learned a few words here and there, common ones she would hear often, the elf explained. 

Eleanor felt a connection with the Elf. Their time together was a secret she cherished. But all good things must come to an end eventually. After the week had passed, Axilia told her she would be departing now, for the dalish camp in the woods. She explained that, though it was not her tribe, she had an important mission to fulfill, and though she wished to stay, she had responsibilities that meant everything. 

"I hope you travel safely." Eleanor had told her. 

"Halam'shivanas." she sighed, " I hope you remain safe Vhenallin, Maybe one day, I can introduce you to my people, and my, peculiar friend Merrill. Quite the rule follower she is."

"I would like that," Hawke smiled, "what does- Ven- Vahn- uhm,, Vhenhayllin mean?" 

The elf chuckled, "Vhenallin, you have become like family to me in such a short time, though not officially, I consider you one of us. Of course that won't fly if you try telling other dalish this, It is only between us." 

That day Eleanor mourned her teachers departure. Her final words repeating in her head throughout the next few days. They brought a grin to her face. Her siblings often questioned her on this, but she wouldn't tell them. She would be in trouble if they told mother she had been sneaking off out of town in the middle of the night to meet an elf, especially one who roughed her up on a few occasions resulted in her lies of "I fell from a tree." 

She continued to practice what she had been taught, and she began to assist in providing meals for everyone by hunting. The blight made animals scarce, but she used the dalish techniques Axilia had taught her, and she often succeeded because of it.

But then the blight reached Lothering.

Eleanor Hawke, despite her desire of weddings and babies with her family surrounding her in joyous celebrations, or the facade of her that craves such things, was now being faced with the terrifying realization that everything she knew of home and life in Lothering was being ripped away from her. 

The feeling of Lilacs were gone, and would soon be replaced with Willows.


End file.
